Apres Moi, Le Deluge
by Amethyst Jackson
Summary: PAUSED. AU - After an unfortunate incident, Harry is turned into a vampire. Ignores DH. Harry/Hermione.
1. Chapter One: Cause

Title: Après Moi, Le Deluge

Rating: T for now to be safe, will go higher with future chapters.

Category: Drama/Adventure/Romance

Summary: AU - An unfortunate incident leads to Harry becoming a vampire.

Disclaimer: I guess it all still belongs to JKR, huh? Yuck. Well, I'm using nothing from DH, because I didn't finish reading it, and some – but not all – of the vampire concepts are blatantly stolen from Stephenie Meyer's _Twilight_, because her vampires bring sexy back.

A/N: Right, so, I started this after I read _Twilight_ because I was on such a vampire kick, and I'm finally posting it now. As the disclaimer says, this completely ignores DH, and no, it's not another crossover – all HP, just waaaay cooler, because vampires rock.

* * *

**Chapter 1: Cause**

"Creepy place," Ron whispered in the darkness as the three looked up at the old, abandoned structure that once was an orphanage. Now it was nothing more than an empty, condemned building, insignificant – except that it might hold one-seventh of Voldemort's soul inside it.

"You're so unprofessional," Hermione hissed from Harry's other side. All three were Disillusioned, blending in like chameleons with the building and shadows.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize there was a certification program for horcrux hunting," Ron retorted. Harry shushed the two before they could turn the sniping into a full-blown skirmish.

"Let's get this over with," he said, leading them to the door, which hung precariously on its top hinge and opened with a squeak that would wake the dead. Harry winced and hurried inside, wand ready to do its work.

Hermione was already at work the moment she walked in the door, casting a battery of detection spells. Once finished, she nodded, satisfied. "We're alone, but I'm not sensing any lingering magic. I don't think it's here."

Harry frowned his disappointment. "Well, let's look in his old room, just in case."

Half-heartedly, he led them the way he'd been shown in Dumbledore's memory. He'd really hoped this wouldn't be another dead end. They'd found the first horcrux, Slytherin's locket, almost off the bat, hidden in Kreacher's cupboard at Grimmauld Place, having been there all along. Unfortunately, no lead had panned out since, and that was when they'd decided to start searching places from Voldemort's past, starting with the orphanage he'd grown up in.

A floorboard creaked ominously as they entered Voldemort's former living quarters. All the furniture had been moved out of the building, and all that remained was a grimy window and a coating of dust on the floor.

As one, they all began heavy-duty magical traces of the room, which would pick up on any unseen enchantments. After a thorough sweep of the room, however, Harry realized there was nothing to find.

"We may as well go," he sighed, looking to Ron and Hermione, but they were looking past him, at the doorway, with wide eyes.

Harry turned swiftly and took in the figure in the doorway. It was a woman, but not any normal woman. Her body was almost invisible in the darkness, covered entirely in black clothing, and her hair was nearly the same color, but her exposed hands, neck, and face were unnaturally pale, so that they nearly glowed against the blackness, and staring from her face were two large, luminous, almost cat-like, golden eyes that glinted at him – menacingly.

Harry took a step back, instinctively placing Ron and Hermione behind him. He heard Hermione gasp, not out of fear, but out of cognition, as she often did.

"It's a vampire," she hissed into his ear, and the woman smiled, exposing a pair of gleaming white fangs.

"That's right," the woman said, her voice smooth and strangely musical.

Harry raised his wand – to do what, he had no idea – but before he could begin to speak, the woman moved, so rapidly that she was little more than a blur to his vision – and then he felt her hands grasping him, followed by a sharp pain in his neck.

The last thing he heard as his consciousness faded was Hermione's panicked scream.

* * *

_Oh no, no, have to stop her…vampires, vampires can only be killed by a stake to the heart, decapitation, or burning…fire, fire, I can do fire._

Hermione moved quickly, taking a step to the side while the vampire's attention was focused on feeding, and aimed her wand at the woman's exposed side.

"_Incendio!_"

The vampire reared back, shrieking, and Harry slumped to the floor, unconscious. Hermione went to him, dropping to her knees beside him, watching out of the corner of her eye as the vampire attempted to put out the flames with her hands. The attempt was in vain. The fire spread quickly, from the side of the shirt that Hermione had ignited around her torso, down her arms and legs, and finally blazing upward to envelope her entirely.

With an unearthly scream and a cloud of ash, the woman was gone, incinerated.

The room was suddenly oppressively black after the brightness of the flames, and Hermione lit her wand, examining Harry. In the background, she vaguely registered Ron speaking – calling to Remus for assistance through one of the two-way mirrors Sirius had left behind, she'd later realize – but all she could see was Harry, paler than she'd ever seen him with blood oozing from his neck, startlingly dark as it dripped to the floor.

She pulled out the handkerchief she always carried with her – her mother had trained her to do so as a young girl, and she'd never been more grateful for her rigid instruction – and applied it to the wound. Harry groaned in pain but didn't wake, and Hermione could do nothing but watch.

Three loud cracks sounded outside the door, and Hermione heard the sounds of spellfire, and two eerie screams like the one the woman had let out when she'd died. Then a head of bright pink hair appeared in the doorway.

"There were two waiting to ambush you," Tonks started to say, but then her eyes landed on Harry's still form. "Was he…bitten?"

Ron didn't answer, and Tonks was looking at Hermione now, so she nodded slowly, unable to speak.

"Oh, hell," Tonks said grimly as Remus and Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared behind her. Hermione winced and finally accepted what her mind had been trying to tell her ever since the vampire had attacked.

All it took was one bite to make a person a vampire, much like a werewolf. There wasn't a cure.

* * *

Remus and Ron side-alonged Harry back to Grimmauld Place, and the others followed after. Hermione watched as they carried him up the stairs to his bedroom. They came back out without him a moment later, and then, by wordless agreement, they all went into the kitchen. No one bothered to sit down.

"We'll need to decide what to do about this," Kingsley stated, his deep, booming voice startling Hermione out of her trance-like state.

"What do you mean, _do _about it?" she said. "The transformation's already begun. There's nothing to be done."

Kingsley looked to the ground, and Hermione realized with horror what he meant.

"No," she breathed, feeling as if she'd been punched in the gut. "No, you can't."

Ron shot her a look, full of panic, as Remus and Tonks both looked away uncomfortably. "Can't _what_?"

"Miss Granger," Kingsley said firmly, ignoring Ron, "He's going to wake up in three days looking to sink his teeth into the first neck he meets. We may not have a _choice_."

"You want to _kill him_?" Ron cried, his voice cracking oddly on the word 'kill.' "Remus, Tonks, you can't let him do that –"

"I don't want to lose him, either, but I'm not sure Harry would want us to let him become a vampire," Remus said, looking impossibly weary.

"All right, but I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want to _die_ either," Ron retorted.

Hermione saw Tonks and Kingsley both open their mouths to speak, and she felt the panic set in again.

"Wait!" she cried, and everyone turned to look at her. She mentally grasped for whatever knowledge she had on the subject, _needing_ to find a way to stop them. The information came to her like a message from a god.

"I've read about cases," she said in a rush, "Vampires who've become humanized, who weren't allowed to feed on human blood when they woke. They learned to drink animal blood, retained their humanity – they live amongst people, as harmless as anybody else because they've retained their conscience. If anyone could do it, it would be Harry."

She waited, breathless, as the others considered her words.

Remus was the first to speak, although gently. "That doesn't address the question of whether he'd want us to let him live."

"But he deserves the choice, doesn't he?" Hermione argued desperately. "Do you wish someone had killed you after you'd been bitten?"

"That's different, Hermione," Remus said, looking stung. "Lycanthropy is a separate state, and temporary. Harry will be a vampire all the time; the bloodlust will never subside. He'll have to live with it constantly, for every minute of every day. Do you want that for him?"

Hermione couldn't respond; tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and her throat closed in an automatic response.

"Look, none of that matters." To Hermione's surprise, it was Ron that spoke. He went on, "Harry has to live because he's the only one that can defeat You-Know-Who."

Kingsley raised a skeptical eyebrow. "That's a rumor the Daily Prophet invented to sell papers."

"No," Ron retorted, "It's a prophecy, actually – you know, the one the Order was trying so hard to protect in the Department of Mysteries? Dumbledore had already heard it, and he told Harry about it. And even if you don't believe that," Ron went on, preventing Kingsley from arguing, as he'd been about to, "Harry's the only one with the information needed to do it now that Dumbledore's gone."

"That's true," Hermione said, happy to agree with Ron this time. "Everything we need is in his memory – if that's gone…there's no way we can do it."

Kingsley sighed and nodded, relenting. "All right, but you'll have to keep him contained until he's safe."

"Of course," Remus said, and Hermione made her way to the door, not in the mood for any socializing. That business was complete. Now it was time to research.

* * *

The library of Grimmauld Place was not exactly pleasant. Besides the serpent motif, the unconquerable cobwebs, and the dust – Madame Pince would have a heart attack if she'd seen the state of the place – the collection also happened to be composed entirely of books about the Dark Arts.

Fortunately, that's exactly what Hermione was after.

The library had been very helpful, ironically, in their search for the horcruxes and learning to destroy them – a process they still hadn't entirely worked out – and now Hermione hoped it would be equally helpful in telling her about vampires.

Browsing the shelves she'd painstakingly alphabetized by topic over the summer, she found the vampire volumes, and only then did she recall just how _many_ there were. There had to be at least fifty relevant titles, some innocent enough – _A Guide to Vampirism_, _Everything You Ever Wanted to Know About Vampires_ – and others that Hermione would not be opening – like _Feeding Your Hungry Vampire_ and _Vampiric Sexuality for Beginners_. She wondered just which member of the Black family had purchased those volumes.

Hermione had learned, in the course of her school reading, the basics facts about vampires. They were humans transformed, technically dead but still animate, immortal, given extraordinary strength, senses, and speed. Sunlight burned their skin, which was the cause of the belief that vampires couldn't go outside in the daytime.

Most of the typical myths about vampires were untrue, however. They didn't sleep in coffins or turn into bats; they had reflections like anyone else. They were still human beings, not demons, but most of them could not resist the bloodlust, in spite of their consciences. Many who tried to resist went insane.

But some thrived without drinking human blood, Hermione reminded herself, still struggling to tie all the facts she knew to Harry…good, kind Harry, who would be tortured when he found out what he was. Remus was right about that. But never seeing Harry smile again or hearing his voice, that was unthinkable; he would manage, and she would be there to help him.

Hermione had just settled down with a stack of books into the armchair she'd moved into the library – the other available chairs might as well have been beds of nails, as uncomfortable as they were – when the door creaked open, and she saw a flash of red in the doorway.

"I figured you'd be here," Ron said, stepping inside. "Found a cure yet?"

Hermione shook her head bleakly. "There is no cure, Ron, you know that."

"Hey, come on," Ron said, pulling up a chair to sit across from her. "It's not the end of the world. He's not dead. Well, I guess he is, actually, but you know what I mean."

"I know," Hermione nodded, "But it won't be easy for him. He's going to need our help."

"Just tell me what I can do."

Hermione smiled and handed him a book. "Start reading."

Ron sighed and sat back with the book. "I was afraid you'd say that."

* * *

Hermione couldn't believe how much there was to learn about vampires.

The transformation alone would have been a fascinating subject if her best friend hadn't been going through it. The concept was fairly simple – when a vampire bit, its fangs released a paralytic poison. If the vampire drained its victim, he or she would simply die…but if the vampire stopped or the attack was interrupted, and the victim had enough blood left to recover, then the poison would work its way throughout the body through the bloodstream, slowly changing the internal workings of the body. After three days, seventy-two hours, the body would be completely changed, and the person would awake a vampire.

Upon waking, the vampire would be hungry. Very hungry. So hungry that it was nearly impossible to resist chomping on the first blood-filled thing that came along. After learning this, Hermione had sent Ron off to bind Harry – with steal, because rope wouldn't last against a vampire's strength, and because magic could wear off – and then to purchase as much animal blood as he could find. Ron wasn't happy about this task, but he dragged Remus along as punishment for considering chopping Harry's head off, and it seemed to be easier for him than reading for hours on end.

After that, there was very little to do for Hermione but wait, and that was nearly an impossible task for her. She would have liked to read more about human-friendly vampires, but the library wasn't so helpful with that. All she could do was draw on the memories of what she'd read before and hope to God she could actually save Harry from succumbing to his new instincts…because the alternative, losing Harry, was impossible.

She simply wouldn't survive it.

TBC


	2. Chapter Two: Effect

Title: Après Moi, Le Deluge

Rating: T to be safe, will go higher with future chapters.

Category: Drama/Adventure/Romance

Summary: AU - An unfortunate incident leads to Harry becoming a vampire.

Disclaimer: I guess it all still belongs to JKR, huh? Yuck. Well, I'm using nothing from DH, because I didn't finish reading it, and some – but not all – of the vampire concepts are blatantly stolen from Stephenie Meyer's _Twilight_, because her vampires bring sexy back.

A/N: Right, so, I started this after I read _Twilight_ because I was on such a vampire kick, and I'm finally posting it now. As the disclaimer says, this completely ignores DH, and no, it's not another crossover – all HP, just waaaay cooler, because vampires rock.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Effect**

Hermione was waiting by his beside for the transformation to end. Though he was unconscious, he twitched and groaned in pain in his sleep. Soaked in sweat and pale as death, he looked worse than she'd ever seen him – and she'd seen him in very bad shape, indeed. But she could already see the changes, too – the sharper lines of his features, stripped of any lingering boyish roundness; the hardened musculature beneath his clothing – the lean, lithe body of a predator. When he woke, he would be strong, fast, and more magically powerful than ever…and he would be completely senseless with bloodlust.

Hermione was already prepared, of course. She had a thermos of heated blood ready for the minute his eyes opened. It should happen soon; by Hermione's count, the 72 hours necessary for the change were almost up.

The door creaked behind her and she turned to see Ron sidling tentatively in.

"It's almost time, isn't it?" he said, looking as nervous as she felt.

Hermione nodded, turning her eyes back to Harry's twitching body. "Five minutes, give or take," she answered, tapping her fingers on the wooden chair's armrest. "What if he doesn't remember, Ron? What if it completely takes over his mind?"

Ron shook his head, standing beside her. "Nah, he's stronger than that. Remember how easily he learned to shake the Imperius? A little vampirism is nothing."

She almost laughed, almost. But it had broken her heart to watch him fight the Imperius, too. "Right. He'll be fine. He has to be."

"He'll remember you," Ron said softly, surprising her, and she was about to comment when Harry's whimpers suddenly ceased. They both turned to him, watching his still form, waiting. And then, suddenly, he came awake, snarling and thrashing.

"Blood!" Hermione cried, jumping up for the thermos. As she pressed it to Harry's lips, she caught the first glimpse of his eyes – still green, but glowing from within, frightening and beautiful. She was immediately and helplessly entranced.

The glow faded incrementally as he drank in deep gulps, like a man who had been stranded in the desert. She briefly wondered if drinking so fast could make him sick, but she didn't dare take the blood away. His body had calmed almost as soon as it had touched his lips, and now that the cup was almost drained, he seemed completely relaxed.

Harry licked the last drop of blood from his lips, and then his eyes focused on her as she set the thermos down.

"Harry?" she said tentatively, sitting on the edge of her chair. "Do you recognize me?"

His brow furrowed and his lips twisted down in a frown. "You're…a friend. Strange name…Her – Her – "

"Hermione," she murmured, watching his reaction carefully. His eyes lit with recognition.

"Yes," he said, nodding. "Hermione. And…Ron." The name was wrung from his lips as he struggled with it, focusing on his grinning friend.

"See, Hermione? He's fine!" Ron exclaimed. "How you feeling, mate?"

"Different," he replied. "What happened?"

"What do you remember?" Hermione asked, leaning closer. Harry suddenly went rigid, and his eyes turned wild again. Stunned, Hermione pulled back, and was surprised when Harry tried to break his bonds and follow. She looked helplessly at Ron, who shrugged unhelpfully.

"He must have caught a whiff of you," he said.

"Could you get more blood, then? He won't be rational again until he has it," Hermione frowned, unable to look away from his hungry eyes.

"All right," Ron said warily. "Be careful."

"Harry?" she said softly, as soon as Ron left. "Harry, try to focus, please. Remember who you are. You don't want to hurt me."

Harry smiled a dark, sinister smirk. "It wouldn't hurt. It would be the best thing you ever felt."

Hermione shivered, and not entirely out of fear. The husky timbre of his voice and the look in his eyes were entirely too sexual for her to be unaffected. She could admit to herself that she wanted what he claimed to offer, but it would be foolish to indulge him. He would say and do anything for her blood right now, and what he said reflected nothing of his real feelings for her. Nothing. "Harry, snap out of it. Don't let your thirst control you."

His eyes softened the smallest amount, but their intensity didn't waver. "I can't help it. You smell…so good. Just one taste, please…"

Hermione shook her head, wondering what it meant that he reacted this way to her and not to Ron. "No, Harry. You have to fight it."

The look on Harry's face suggested he was going to keep pleading, but luckily, Ron chose that moment to return with more blood. "You keep going through it at this rate, we're going to run out of butchers to go to," Ron commented, handing the cup over to Hermione. Ron had already made it quite clear that he could manage transporting the stuff, but there was no way he was feeding Harry.

The job then fell to Hermione, and she was fine with that. She had always been ready to do whatever it took for Harry – before and after his change.

After he drank once more, he seemed almost back to his normal self.

"I'm drinking blood, and I don't want to vomit," he stated, looking between her and Ron. "I'm a vampire, then?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "Do you remember how it happened?" she asked.

"Vaguely," he muttered. "I know we were out…we were looking for something…I can't quite remember what, though it was important…very important. We couldn't find it, and we were leaving, but then…then something went wrong…"

"You mean the part where the vampire attacked? Yeah, it went pretty wrong," Ron remarked. "She'd taken a good bite before Hermione got her with a blast of fire, but by then it was too late. The venom had set in."

"Hmm. So I was bitten. And…I'm a vampire." He was oddly calm; Hermione guessed that the idea hadn't sunk in yet. She feared what would happen when he did fully realize what had happened to him, what he'd become, what he'd lost.

"We'll do everything we can to help you," Hermione found herself saying. "There are vampires out there who survive perfectly well off animal blood. They can live amongst humans without any problem. It'll take some time, but you'll get used to it."

"Can you let me out of these?" Harry asked, indicating his steel bonds with a nod of his head. "It's really uncomfortable."

Hermione and Ron glanced to each other, hesitant. "Er, that might not be a good idea," Ron said. "You're still our best friend and all, but you might eat us right now, and then you'd feel really bad about it later on…"

Harry rolled his eyes, but it didn't have quite the same effect it used to. He was too…alluring now. "I won't eat anyone. C'mon, how long are you going to keep me chained up? You have to let me out sometime."

Hermione bit her lip, hating to see him bound, but knowing the risks. "Harry, you might think you're fine, but what if one of us gets too close again, and you lose it?"

"Hermione, _please_ ," he begged, turning his imploring eyes on her. How was she supposed to resist that look? She'd done everything he'd asked when he was human; now it was ten times worse.

"Well…all right. But I've hidden your wand. No magic until we're sure you're thinking straight."

"Okay," Harry agreed, almost pleasantly. "Just let me out, please?"

"Hermione –" Ron started to protest, but she had already lifted her wand to release him.

"Thanks," Harry said as he sat up gracefully, rubbing his wrists. It struck Hermione all at once how beautiful he'd become – how every bit of him seemed to be made according to some master design by a great artist, although in other ways he looked just the same as he always had. It baffled her and intrigued her, and made her generally uncomfortable.

"How long was I out?" Harry asked, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Hermione pushed her chair back in a precautionary measure.

"Three days," she answered. "That's how long it takes."

He nodded absently, plucking at his still damp shirt. "I think I need a shower before I try to process any more of this," he said, keeping his eyes off them. "Would you mind?"

"Okay," Hermione said, watching as he went to his dresser and retrieved new clothes. He was out the door a moment later, headed for the bathroom.

Hermione looked to Ron with a worried frown. "He's not…reacting like I thought he would," she whispered, glancing out the open door.

"What, you mean by brooding and whining about how he's a 'monster' now?" Ron asked, not bothering to lower his voice.

"Something like that," she muttered. "He's just…too calm."

Ron shrugged. "Well, he _is_ a vampire now. He's bound to be a bit…different."

"Maybe you're right," Hermione replied. "But you know me. I'll worry until my dying day."

Ron laughed. "That you will. Look, Hermione, why don't you go get some rest? You've hardly slept since this happened. Lupin and I will look after him for awhile."

"That does sound nice," Hermione sighed, rubbing her aching eyes. "Are you sure – "

"It'll be fine," Ron cut her off. "Sleep, will you? You look like hell."

"Gee, thanks," Hermione laughed, forcing herself out of the chair. "Wake me, if anything goes wrong."

Ron snorted. "You can count on that."

Hermione wandered back to her bedroom. It was a mess from the past three days, with books piled beside the bed and clothes strewn about the floor. She was normally much tidier, but even her cleaning instincts had been suppressed in the name of research and preparation.

She pulled off the clothes she'd worn for two days straight and put on an oversized T-shirt. Without any more fanfare than that, she dropped into bed and was out like a light.

As she slept, she dreamed of glowing eyes and sharp fangs. A feeling of tension haunted her subconscious – not quite fear, but not quite something pleasant, either…a sense of anticipation, of something meant to happen…

When she woke, it was to a shrill scream. Immediately, she jumped out of bed with her wand in hand and ran out into the hallway. She was halfway to Harry's room when the shrill voice sounded again.

"You have to let me see him, Ron! I heard what happened – he _needs_ me now!"

Hermione lowered her wand with a sigh. Ginny, of course. She was going to kill whoever let her know about this. Stupid girl, always had to stick her nose into situations that she could be absolutely no help with. In what universe was it a good idea to visit a newly-changed vampire who was struggling not to take a bite out of everyone he saw?

"Who is it?" a voice behind her asked. She whirled around, gasping, to find Harry right behind her, staring her down with those intense eyes. She swallowed, fighting to calm her racing heart.

"You don't recognize the voice?" Hermione asked, alarmed by the way he stepped closer still. She took a step back, and realized she was against the wall, and his eyes, his eyes were taking on that glow again.

"Should I recognize the voice?" he asked smoothly. Suddenly, his body was very much against hers.

"Y-yes. You dated her."

"Hmm. Can't imagine why," he muttered, leaning in and breathing deeply through his nose.

"Harry," she gulped, clutching her wand in trembling fingers, "You should take a step back now. Before you do something you regret."

"Mmm," Harry hummed, gripping her upper arms in his hands. "But I want it…so badly…"

Hermione felt three alarming things at once – Harry's lips at her throat, his hand on her very bare thigh, and a distinct hardness against her stomach.

"Harry!" she gasped. "You need to stop now, you need to –"

And then a voice Hermione never thought she would want to hear arrived. "What the _hell_ is this?!"

Harry jumped abruptly away from her, whipping around to Ginny, snarling. Ginny took a step back, looking terrified of whatever she saw in Harry's eyes.

"My god," the girl breathed, hands shaking. "My god, what _is_ he?"

Hermione ignored her, lifting her wand to stun Harry before he could hurt the girl he clearly didn't recognize. Harry fell to the ground, unconscious, just as Ron arrived at the top of the stairs.

"Damnit, Ginny, I let you out of my sight for one – shit, what happened?"

"Harry lost control," Hermione sighed. "I woke up when I heard Ginny – he cornered me. Get him some more blood, will you? I'm going to shackle him back up. It's too risky, for now."

She levitated him back to his room. As she went, she could hear Ron and Ginny talking still.

"What's _wrong_ with him?" Ginny asked as her voice shook. Their voices faded gradually as Ron led her down the stairs.

"He's a vampire, Gin, that's what's wrong. What did you expect?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and placed Harry on his bed, reattaching the steel shackles. She hated to do it to him – when he wasn't out of control, he was still Harry, somewhere in there. None of this was fair to him, either – as if he hadn't been through enough in his life without being attacked by a vampire on top of that.

Hermione waited in the chair she'd occupied for hours on end recently for Ron to return with the blood. Harry began to stir not long after she sat down – he would shake magic off much easier than he had as a mere wizard.

"Hermione," he mumbled as his eyes opened. His nostrils flared, and she realized he wasn't calling for her – he was _smelling_ for her.

"I'm here," she said, watching nervously as his head turned and she met his luminescent eyes once more.

"Why did you stop me?" he asked harshly, glaring.

Hermione's eyes widened and she felt her heart start to race. "You would have killed Ginny if I hadn't."

"Of course I would have!" Harry cried, thrashing against his bonds again. His arm muscles strained with the effort, and Hermione fully realized how strong he must be now. "She deserved to die," he continued. "She interrupted. I almost had you!"

Hermione frowned, feeling the ache between her legs that gave away just how much she wanted to be 'had.' "Why me, Harry?" she asked, squeezing her thighs together to fight the feeling. It didn't help. "Is it just because I…smell tasty or something?"

"I was _meant_ to possess you," he growled, still straining closer. "You are mine."

Ron chose that moment to return with another cup of blood. "Finally got her to leave," he said. "I doubt she'll be coming back any time soon. Here you go."

Hermione took the cup and pressed it to Harry's lips. He struggled for a moment before he began to drink, once again in heavy gulps as though he hadn't had a drop in weeks.

"Uh, Hermione?" Ron broke in. "You know you're not wearing any pants, right?"

"I know," she sighed. "There was no time."

"Well, um…you might…do something about that soon," he stammered, looking away. "No offense, but that's more of you than I really want to see."

Hermione laughed, glad to have the comedic relief Ron offered. Her mind was still spinning. "None taken. I'll probably go back to bed as soon as I'm done with this, if you don't mind."

"Good plan," Ron nodded. "You were only out for an hour when Ginny turned up."

Harry pulled away from the cup, collapsing back against the bed. She set it on the bedside table and moved to leave, as Ron continued to avert his eyes from her bare legs.

"Hermione," Harry called after her, forcing her to pause and turn. His eyes were calm, and sad. "I'm sorry," he said. Hermione wasn't sure exactly which part he was apologizing for – nearly drinking from her, touching her in a non-friendly way, or all of it – but it was Harry, and her heart left her no choice but to accept his apology and forgive him.

"It's okay, Harry," she murmured before she shut the door behind her, taking herself away to figure out exactly what was going on between her and her former best friend. What he was to her now, exactly, was still a mystery.


	3. Chapter Three: ShortLived Success

Title: Après Moi, Le Deluge

Rating: T to be safe, will go higher with future chapters

Category: Drama/Adventure/Romance

Summary: AU - An unfortunate incident leads to Harry becoming a vampire.

Disclaimer: I guess it all still belongs to JKR, huh? Yuck. Well, I'm using nothing from DH, because I didn't finish reading it, and some – but not all – of the vampire concepts are blatantly stolen from Stephenie Meyer's _Twilight_, because her vampires bring sexy back.

A/N: Right, so, I started this after I read _Twilight _because I was on such a vampire kick, and I'm finally posting it now. As the disclaimer says, this completely ignores DH, and no, it's not another crossover – all HP, just waaaay cooler, because vampires rock.

* * *

**Chapter Three: Short-Lived Success**

Living with a vampire was difficult to adjust to. While Harry was awake – which was from sunset to sunrise now – he had to be either monitored closely or kept chained up, which he didn't like at all, especially when he was feeling more like himself again. When he was well-fed, Harry was very much the stubborn, impulsive teenager he'd been before.

Hermione and Ron stayed with him in shifts. Harry might be nocturnal now, but they both had a great deal of things to do during the daytime. Ron took the shift from dusk to midnight, and Hermione, used to late hours, sat with him from midnight until dawn.

The time passed awkwardly. Words like, _"It would be the best thing you ever felt"_ and _"I was meant to possess you"_ floated continuously through her mind, paired with the intensity of his eyes and his warm, silky voice. His new fangs were certainly not his most dangerous weapon; when he wanted to be, Harry was utterly seductive, completely enthralling. And she wasn't winning against those new powers.

Hermione was forced to admit that she wanted him. He was _beautiful_ now, after all. Of course, she'd always found him attractive in his own unique way with his sexily unkempt hair and captivating eyes, but the transformation had stripped him of all boyishness and left him with strong, refined features and lean muscle. Truth be told, he was every woman's wet dream…and Hermione was certainly a woman.

The most startling change was his eyes. He no longer needed his glasses, newly adjusted as his eyes were to follow his prey, and now his gaze fell on her unhindered, often with that strange, hungry glow, as if some inner fire burned behind them only for her.

But then, when he was in control of his thirst, he was very much the best friend she'd always known, the one she'd devoted her life to – or at least, the part of her life that mattered. Everything before meeting Harry Potter was a strange blur, empty of anything real or important. She was made to help him…which indeed made her wonder if perhaps he wasn't meant to possess her after all, to wonder if she wasn't _already_ possessed.

"Hermione?" he spoke one day in that voice she knew so well – the one she heard when he was thinking hard on something, doubting or questioning, when he needed answers and didn't know where else to turn, but he wasn't sure he was ready to reveal all his anxieties. "What do you know about vampire mating?"

Her response was to blush red, reminded of passages in books about the extraordinary sexuality of vampires, which mingled tantalizingly with the memory of him pressed up against her in a position that would be an inch away from intercourse had their clothes disappeared.

"Um…they do it the same way humans do, Harry," she managed to respond, looking down on the notes she'd been going over obsessively since the attack – notes on vampirism, notes on horcruxes, notes on everything she needed to know to make it through the coming battle.

"That's – that's not what I meant," Harry stammered, also blushing. "I mean, do they…mate for life? Is there like some sixth sense they have about it?"

Hermione blinked, considering his question. The most she'd read was that vampires tended to be more likely to feed on members of the sex they preferred. She hadn't dug much deeper than that, not thinking it was relevant.

"I didn't look into that, but I can," she responded. "There are plenty of books on vampires in this library."

"No, no…I can do it myself," he said quickly, which surprised her. Harry had never volunteered to do his own research, not in the entire time she'd known him. For some reason, he didn't want her knowing what he was contemplating…and that, of course, only provoked her curiosity.

Why would Harry want to know about vampire mating habits? Surely he didn't think he was likely to _find_ one anytime soon. After all, the only women he'd seen since his change were her and Ginny…and he'd admitted to being completely ready to kill Ginny for interrupting his chance to feed. Surely even vampires were nicer than _that_ to their mates.

And it couldn't be _her_. Obviously, Harry was confusing his desire to feed with lust or something. Vampires did tend to blur the line there. Maybe, when he came into contact with other females, he would realize the difference.

Nevertheless, the first chance she had, she went to the library and returned to the stack of books that had been sitting out ever since the night of the attack. She dug through until she found the one that she thought would offer the most information and sure enough, there was a chapter on mating.

_The mortals of our world often make the mistake of believing vampires feel attraction, lust and love just as they did in their human lives. For vampires, in fact, the process of taking a lifelong mate is much more complex…and perhaps much more simple._

_While mortals often fumble around in the dark with only a vague inclination of what they want and need in a lifelong partner, vampires have no such difficulties. Perhaps there is more at stake (no pun intended) for these immortal creatures. Choosing the wrong being to share one's life with has much further-reaching consequences – instead of "until death do us part", vampires must face the reality of eternity. Furthermore, failing to recognize that one perfect mate can mean millennia of loneliness for the unfortunate vampire._

_For this reason, perhaps, vampires come equipped with the uncanny ability to recognize their one true mate upon sight. Testimony from various members of the species describes the phenomenon as a sudden sensation of deep longing, somewhat reminiscent of nostalgia, as if in fact one had been waiting for an encounter with this one person all his or her life._

_This magical sense locates for the vampire the one soul uniquely suited to love, care for, and guide him or her – the ideal companion in life._

Hermione stopped reading with a frown. Surely Harry had yet to experience this sensation. He'd only seen her, Ron, Ginny, and Remus since the change. How likely was it that she or Ginny could be his ideal companion? …Ginny definitely wasn't, Hermione thought as she scowled to herself. Ginny understood Harry about as well as Ron understood chaos mathematics.

And Harry definitely couldn't have experienced that sensation with _her_. They had been friends for six years without Harry showing the slightest inclination of attraction or romantic interest. Certainly he would have noticed something by now if they were truly meant to be together forever.

No, it was probably her initial suspicion – that Harry was confusing his instinct to feed with lust, which was perfectly understandable for a new vampire. She would take him the book to read about it so that he would know what was happening, and that would take care of that.

Nevertheless, she couldn't deny the hollow pang that appeared in her stomach when she dismissed the idea of being Harry's one and only.

* * *

Hermione tried to put all thoughts of mating out of her mind over the next few days, but she couldn't ignore the reality which her reading emphasized for her – Harry, unless he was deliberately killed, would live forever. She and Ron, Ginny, the Weasleys, Remus, Tonks…they would all fade away with time, becoming nothing more than dust, and Harry would linger on without them. The very thought brought tears to her eyes. Would he even remember them after a hundred, five hundred years? Would he make new friends, take a mate, live happily-ever-after with his vampire bride? The idea continually disconcerted her. She couldn't imagine Harry going on without them any more than she could imagine going on without Harry. It seemed fundamentally wrong.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed to be adjusting to his new life fairly well. The consuming of blood never fazed him, and he was controlling his thirst much better. There hadn't been a repeat of the first day, though he did sniff at her from time to time. She mostly ignored it and tried not to get too close.

Meanwhile, Hermione continued her horcrux research. It was imperative they not lose any time while they waited for Harry to adjust, but her efforts weren't getting her very far. No matter how hard she looked, there was no new information to be found.

She was left combing over the notes she already had, reviewing the memories Dumbledore had shared and everything Harry had been able to add. She kept coming back to the basics: six horcruxes. Ring, destroyed. Diary, destroyed. Locket, found. Founder's artifact, likely. Nagini, likely. Hufflepuff's cup, location unknown. And the seventh part remained within Voldemort himself. Seven parts in the perfect numerological sequence. She couldn't fight the feeling she was missing _something_. She went back to the two destroyed ones repeatedly. Dumbledore had nearly lost his arm trying to handle the ring. They didn't know precisely how he had done it, and the diary had been destroyed by a basilisk fang. It stumped her. How would that even work? The fang held no mystical properties that she knew of. Unless…unless it wasn't the fang at all, but the venom inside.

Hermione nearly hit herself. Of course, it was so obvious! Basilisk venom was extraordinarily powerful, after all. It killed within minutes, and it was an ingredient in every fast-acting poison she could name. If the venom did the trick…

"Ron, Ron!" she went tearing through the house, into the bedroom where Ron was still sleeping. "Ron, I've got it!"

"Got what?" he mumbled groggily as he threw the covers over his head to hide.

"They key to destroying the horcruxes!" she hissed. "Get up! We have to go to Hogwarts!"

"Hogwarts? What for?" Ron said, frowning as he reemerged from his pile of blankets.

"To get a basilisk fang, of course."

"You've finally lost it, haven't you?" Ron groaned. "I'm going back to sleep while you search the library for your sanity, thanks."

"No, no, no! Up! We're leaving in ten minutes, and Harry will eat you if you let me leave the house alone."

Ron swung his legs free, glaring. "Don't use our vampire friend to threaten me," he grumbled. "It's not nice."

Hermione left him to get ready and went to gather the necessary supplies. Fifteen minutes later – five minutes of Ron's whining ruining their time – they had checked Harry's chains and put up the security wards around the house, and they were off.

Hogwarts had been closed for the year without Dumbledore; no one felt safe keeping it open. The grounds were unkempt and frightening without Hagrid to keep control. He'd gone to continue his efforts with the giants. Nevertheless, Hermione sensed no malicious presences on the grounds with her detection charms. Evidently, the protections stood. Voldemort still couldn't take the school.

The castle itself was dark and musty, coated in dust and overrun with pests. Ron was jumping right and left with each new appearance of a spider.

"Uh, Hermione?" Ron said as they approached the second floor girls' lavatory. "How are we going to get in without Harry to do his snake thingy?"

"I was prepared for that," Hermione said, pulling an old audio cassette out of her rucksack. "It occurred to me that parseltongue would be required for a lot of Voldemort's hiding spots, so I charmed this to play a recording of Harry."

Ron eyed the cassette skeptically. "What the bugger is it?"

"A Muggle recording device. Normally, you have to put it in a player and apply electricity for it to work, but I used magic to do it instead."

"Right…uh…good job?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she pushed open the door to the bathroom. "Thanks, Ron."

Her feet squelched unpleasantly with the first step she took, caught in the damp grit of the floor. Instantly, there was a splash and a great screech.

"Intruders!" Moaning Myrtle flew from her toilet screaming bloody murder – until she caught sight of them. "The cat-girl! And the freckly one!" she cried in surprised, her translucent eyes widening comically. "Is Harry with you?"

"No, he was…detained," Ron answered, eying the ghost warily. "We've come to get something out of the Chamber for him."

"Ohh. I thought you were _his_ people, come to take over my castle. I was going to flood you out."

"Well…it's good you're protecting the place," Hermione said delicately. "Will you stand watch for us while we're down below?"

Myrtle nodded her agreement earnestly and hovered dutifully by the door. That taken care of, Hermione turned to the faucet with snakes carved into the sides and quickly tapped the cassette three times with her wand. The device came to life, tape rolling, and hissing emerged. Rumbling and groaning, the sink opened up, revealing a long chute. Hermione placed cushioning charms on each of them and approaching the opening with no little amount of apprehension.

She lowered herself and sighed. "Here goes nothing." With that sentiment, she reluctantly let go. Immediately, gravity sucked her downward. Air whooshed past her and she found herself screaming. Behind her, she heard Ron jostling around, too big and gangly for the chute.

After what seemed like forever, she landed gently, but she jumped up quickly when she realized she was sitting on a pile of animal bones. Ron emerged seconds later, grimacing.

"I'd forgotten how disgusting it really was down here."

"We'll just have to ignore it," she said unconvincingly. She lit her want and peered forward. "Straight ahead, I suppose?"

"No other way to go down here," Ron confirmed. "Oy, how are we getting back up, anyhow?"

"I brought brooms," Hermione said succinctly. "Honestly, Ron, you might try thinking of these things before it's too late, in case I've missed something."

"That's not really my specialty," Ron shrugged, crunching along behind her.

"Then what is?" she asked.

"Sidekicking. Mostly, I do what I'm told."

Hermione snorted. "Mostly."

Ron chose not to respond to that, and they kept stumbling through bones and rocks until they reached another portal. Hermione used the cassette again, and the door opened to unleash a horrible stench.

"Ah, the smell of rotting basilisk in the morning," Ron mock-sighed. "I'm glad I got out of bed for this."

"Harry. Eating. _You_," she reminded him before resolving to breathe only through her mouth.

Sure enough, as they entered the main chamber, they came upon the form of a giant, decomposing snake. She had to clench her eyes shut tight to avoid vomiting. Ron didn't quite manage to quell that urge.

"God, that's revolting!" he complained, still half-heaving. "Let's hurry up, shall we?"

Hermione nodded, keeping one hand clamped over her mouth as she approached the head. The decaying mouth still held one fang. A quick severing charm detached it, and she picked it up with the piece of dragon leather she brought for the task. She wrapped it tightly and then ushered Ron out with hand gestures. She was more than ready to leave.

"Glad that's over," Ron sighed as they reached the outer tunnel and slightly less putrid air. Hermione enthusiastically nodded her agreement as she carefully placed the wrapped fang in the knapsack and extracted the miniaturized brooms. With a quick spell, they were back to normal size, ready to fly.

Ron insisted she go up first, lest she fall off and need catching. Though she shot him a glare, she acquiesced. He did have something of a point.

Up in the bathroom, Hermione landed on wobbly legs and looked up to see Myrtle where they'd left her.

"Oh, what a pity. You're alive," she sighed, drifting back toward her toilet. "I was rather hoping for some company."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Ron snorted, coming up behind her. "We'll try harder next time."

Outside the bathroom, Hermione took the brooms and shrunk them once more. "I want to do some searching while we're here," she said, slinging the bag over her shoulder. "If Hogwarts was so important to Voldemort, he might have hidden one here. Maybe when he came for the job interview. Yes, that's probably exactly what he did. He's too smart to think that Dumbledore would have actually hired him, so the purpose must have been to hide a horcrux…"

"You don't want to search the _whole_ castle, do you?" Ron asked, going a little pale.

Hermione shook her head. "No, he wouldn't put it anywhere people might pick it up and walk off with it. That rules out the Great Hall, the classrooms, the toilets, the dormitories, the offices, the kitchens… Maybe the trophy room? No one ever goes in there, and a trinket would go unnoticed with all the other odds and ends."

"Sounds as good as anything to me," Ron agreed, and they trudged down to the first floor where the trophy room was located.

It was extra dusty in there, having gone without cleaning longer than any other part of the castle. Hermione went through the cases one by one, looking for anything suspicious. Most were typical things – the House Cup, the Quidditch Cup, awards of excellence the school had received, awards to students and professors. She came to Tom Riddle's award "for special services to the school" and tried poking it with the basilisk fang, much to Ron's amusement. Nothing happened, and she concluded it must not be a horcrux. Probably would have done some damage to Ron years ago when he'd burped slugs on it if it were.

On and on it went, until they came to a case in the corner she'd never noticed there before, as if it had been deliberately shunted away. It held important artifacts, the case said, things valuable to the school. It held the dry old wands of some of the first alumni, the first snitch used in a game, Gryffindor's diary. And there, on the middle shelf, an unlabeled wand with an ornate silver handle and an intricate pattern of runes carved into the wood.

"That has to be it," she breathed. Ravenclaw's wand, she would guess, since runes were the trademark of the witch.

Immediately, she started checking for enchantments on the case. She only found a charm protecting the case from any entry, which she unraveled with more difficulty than she would have liked.

Ron was grinning. "I can't believe Hermione Granger is robbing Hogwarts," he laughed. Hermione rolled her eyes and opened the case. Returning to her spell-detecting, she found that all the other artifacts were held down with powerful sticking charms, much like the one on Mrs. Black's portrait that they still couldn't remove. The wand, however, was a different matter. There was a powerful force-field around it, and…an invisibility spell? But the wand was clearly not invisible…so what was?

It took her nearly an hour to undo that spell. Ron had slumped down against a case and was starting to doze off when she cried out in triumph. He jerked up, wide-eyed. "Did you get it?"

"Not quite," she breathed, rather exhausted, "but I've uncovered a circle of runes here."

Indeed, a ring of runes – twenty-five, she counted – was painted on the cloth underneath the wand. "Ron, do me a favor. Run to the library and get the biggest rune dictionary, please. I'm going to need it."

While she waited for his return, she pulled out a pen and parchment – one never knew when something would need writing down – and began a list of the runes. Some she could decipher easily. Others she couldn't be certain about, and there were a few she doubted she'd ever seen before. Hermione would bet a fortune that they formed the field protecting the wand.

When Ron came back, heaving the huge tome with him, Hermione set to work. The runes were a random assortment that failed to make any kind of sense – _day, life, black, man_, and so on. When she was finished several hours later, she had only a list of words. She frowned, turning to Ron.

"Do you see any pattern here?"

He looked the list over, chewing on his bottom lip. "Well, they all have pretty clear opposites. Day and night, life and death, black and white, man and woman…"

"Of course," Hermione breathed, impressed that her friend had seen it so easily. "I have to draw the corresponding opposite runes to deactivate the protections."

Ron groaned. "Tell me that won't take as long as the first part did."

"No," Hermione smiled. "No, that won't take long at all."

And it didn't. In fact, it was alarmingly easy. Looking up words to find the runes that corresponded to them went much faster than searching for the images themselves. After a few minutes, she put the finishing touch on the last one and backed away, waiting for a reaction.

The two rings of runes glowed golden and began to spin, each circle going in an opposite direction, running faster and faster until, with a burst of light, they disappeared. The blast of energy knocked her and Ron backwards and shattered some glass, but in the end, they were unscathed…and the wand was there for the taking.

Hermione picked it up gingerly. "It's so beautiful…and so historical. It's a shame we have to destroy it," she sighed.

Ron wrinkled his nose up in distaste. "Doesn't matter how pretty it is. That thing's got a nasty bit of one twisted soul inside it. I wouldn't want anything to do with it."

"Well, when you put it that way…"

Ron stretched and yawned. "Can we get out of here now?" he asked.

"Yeah, sure." Hermione led the way out with a smile, full of triumph…yet she couldn't shake the thought that this day had gone far too easily.

"Sure seems like we're doing all the work here," Ron commented as they walked through the grounds to the point where they could apparate back. "I mean, I thought we were supposed to need Harry for this? I think we did pretty well without him."

Hermione smiled. "Yeah, but I'm pretty sure neither of us has what it takes to go toe-to-toe with Voldemort."

Ron shuddered. "Touché."

Night had fallen, and the house was completely dark when they returned.

"Why don't you go check on Harry and I'll get dinner started?" Hermione suggested.

Ron grimaced. "Um, Hermione, do you remember what happened last time you cooked? Why don't _you_ check on Harry, and _I'll_ make dinner."

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, all right."

She pulled herself tiredly up the stairs and poked her head inside Harry's room. What she saw sent a shot of pure panic through her. Instead of Harry lying chained up as he should have been, the bed was empty, and Harry was nowhere to be found.

Two arms came around her from behind, and she realized exactly where he had gone.


	4. Chapter Four: Close Encounters

Title: Après Moi, Le Deluge

Rating: T to be safe, will go higher with future chapters

Category: Drama/Adventure/Romance

Summary: AU - An unfortunate incident leads to Harry becoming a vampire.

Disclaimer: I guess it all still belongs to JKR, huh? Yuck. Well, I'm using nothing from DH, because I didn't finish reading it, and some – but not all – of the vampire concepts are blatantly stolen from Stephenie Meyer's _Twilight_, because her vampires bring sexy back.

A/N: Right, so, I started this after I read _Twilight_ because I was on such a vampire kick, and I'm finally posting it now. As the disclaimer says, this completely ignores DH, and no, it's not another crossover – all HP, just waaaay cooler, because vampires rock.

* * *

**Chapter Four: Close Encounters**

She started to scream, but a hand clamped quickly over her mouth. "Don't do that," he tsked, slowly walking her deeper into the room. "It's just _me_, Hermione."

He turned her around, bringing them face to face. She was immediately taken in by his hungry eyes, a swirling mixture of lust and bloodlust, desperation and longing. Harry warily removed his hand from her mouth, and she didn't scream like she should have. She couldn't.

"Hermione…" He urged her backward, until her back hit the wall. "I read the book you left. I know you know what this is between us. You must feel it…"

His smoldering eyes and the timbre of his voice turned her legs to jelly. "W-what?"

Harry pressed in close, flattening his body against hers. She could feel everything, from the hard planes of his chest to the strong thigh between her legs. "You do feel it, don't you? How every part of you belongs to me?"

Trying to find the strength to push him away, Hermione gulped. "Harry, you're confusing your new instincts. It's not me you want, it's –"

"No! Don't do that. Don't trivialize this," he growled. "You're mine, and I'm _yours_. You must feel that."

She shivered, partly out of desire and partly at the cold hand that was snaking up her shirt. "Harry –"

He wasn't interested in hearing what she had to say. He forced himself harder against her and claimed her lips in a bruising kiss. In spite of herself, in spite of the danger she knew she was putting herself in, she tangled her fingers in his hair and responded. Everything he said was true – her body, her heart, her soul called for him, and she couldn't resist an open invitation. She gladly let his tongue tangle with hers; he tasted sweet as sin.

Harry moaned into her mouth, and then she felt the sharp prick of his teeth against her lips, drawing blood through the thin skin. She gasped as she felt his tongue flicking against them, tasting the small cuts.

His lips dragged away from hers, down to her throat. Hermione felt the panic rise up. She knew it had been a bad idea to tempt fate, and now she was paying for it. He was going to bite her, and she doubted he would have the control to stop before she died.

"Mmm, Hermione…" he sighed, breathing in as his nose brushed her skin. "You taste so heavenly…"

His grip tightened on her arms, holding her still as he prepared to bite down. Hermione tensed and squeezed her eyes shut. "Harry," she whimpered – part fear, part calling out for the friend that had once been her protector.

And suddenly, he shoved himself away from her. When she opened her eyes, he was across the room, flattened against the wall, staring back at her in horror.

"Harry?" She was confused and disoriented. One moment, she'd been overcome by lust, the next braced for death – and now suddenly rescued?

"I'm sorry," he said raggedly, turning his eyes away from her. "You need to leave now."

It didn't take her long to obey. She could see the tense way he stood, fighting himself, and she knew to linger would be stupidity. And so she disobeyed her heart's instructions to stay and fled downstairs.

Ron was just finishing dinner when she got to the kitchen. He took one look at her and dropped the pot he was levitating to the table.

"Merlin, Hermione, you're as white as Harry. What the hell happened?"

She fought through the strange numbness that had taken over her. "Harry happened."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Did he try to bite you again?"

"Yes…well, not at first. He…he's got it into his head that I'm meant to be his mate for all eternity. So…he kissed me. And…then he tried to bite me."

Ron shuffled uncomfortably. "So…he wants to make you his vampire bride or whatever?"

Hermione shrugged helplessly. "I guess? But then he stopped himself and ran away, and now I don't know what's going on, really."

"He stopped himself?" Ron frowned. "You mean…he was going to bite you, and he just…stopped? I thought new vampires weren't supposed to be able to do that."

"I thought so, too," Hermione breathed, finally dropping down onto one of the benches lining the long table.

Ron sat across from her, folding his hands contemplatively under his chin. "What do you reckon, then? You think Harry's off his rocker, or are you really destined to be his vampy lover?"

"I don't know," she winced. "Only he can really tell, but I'm afraid he's confusing his normal instincts with something more. I just…don't know…"

"Hmm. And how do you feel about it all?"

Hermione smiled at her subtly perceptive friend, who seemed to know exactly what was really bothering her now. "Well…you know better than anyone how much I care about Harry. And…well, I do want to be with him. I may as well admit that. But I don't think I could stand the pain if he realized later on he had made a big mistake. I'm afraid to hope."

Ron nodded slowly. "Tell you what, Hermione. I'll clean up in here, you go have a rest. I'll bring you up something to eat and you can go to bed; leave Harry to me tonight. You can face him again tomorrow."

"Thank you, Ron," she sighed. "You keep me sane…except when you're driving me crazy."

He grinned. "Likewise."

* * *

Ron was none too keen on taking care of the dietary aspect of Harry's new condition, but after what had happened with Hermione that night, he felt called by duty to feed his friend, and then to give him a talking to.

Harry was on the bed when he went in, curled up with his knees drawn to his chest in one of his typical poses for a bout of self-loathing. Ron sighed in exasperation.

"I brought dinner," he said, tossing the closed thermos in Harry's direction. He glanced up and caught it reflexively.

"Thanks," he muttered darkly before beginning to drink. Ron cringed and looked away.

"So…what the bloody hell do you think you're doing with Hermione, anyway?" he asked, never one for preamble.

Harry blanched – if that was possible. "What do you mean?"

"For starters," he began, "what's this all about? This whole…vampire mating rubbish. Is that just some ploy to get a bite out of Hermione? Because that is _not on_, and you know it –"

"No, it's not a ploy," Harry sighed, shaking his head. The self-disgust was back. "She _is_ my mate. I can just…sense it. But every time I get close to her, her scent just…_overwhelms _me, and it's so hard to resist… I've been trying to keep away, not to say anything, but whenever I'm thirsty, it's like…instinct takes control."

Ron frowned. He couldn't pretend to understand completely, but he saw that his friend was conflicted and would go easy on him. "Why can't you just tell her what's going on? I mean, you've got her right confused, but if you're sure about her being…'the one', why don't you just tell her as much?"

Harry put aside the thermos and buried his head in his hands again. "Didn't you hear any of what I just said? I can't let her get any closer to me. I can barely keep from hurting her as it is!"

"Okay…so you don't want to bite her. That makes sense. But won't you have to, eventually? If you're going to have her around for eternity, won't she need to be a vampire, too?"

Harry shuddered and shook his head. "No, Ron, no. I can't do that to her. Look at the state of me! I have to be chained up just to keep from hurting my closest friends, and the thirst never goes away. I don't want that for her."

"Oh, dear," Ron sighed, dropping into the chair by the bed. "So it's going to be one of those self-sacrificing issues, is it?"

Harry glared, his eyes starting to glow enough to creep Ron out. "It's not about me. It's about her."

"Well, just look at it this way. You have no idea what she would want, do you? You can't, because you haven't bloody talked to her about any of this. She's still convincing herself that you're just 'confused' because she's insecure and you never looked twice at her for six years. I don't think she's even thought ahead as far as you have…which is weird, for Hermione, but she's always been a bit weird when it comes to you. So, you know, maybe you should at least give her an explanation so that you're not avoiding her for the rest of your life."

Harry blinked slowly. "Yes…I suppose you're right."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, I wouldn't want you to get used to that or anything. Heaven forbid I be right on occasion. I might get a big head."

Harry snorted, a small smirk crossing his lips. "As if you ever needed a reason to have a big head before…"

Ron shrugged. "At least I don't want to eat my girlfriend."

"Watch it, Weasley. I might eat you instead."

"Ooh, scary."

* * *

Hermione didn't get the nice, long night of sleep she'd been hoping for. Instead, she lay awake, tossing the encounter with Harry around in her head. She couldn't deny that she wanted him physically – the memory of their bodies mashed together, his lips on her skin, even his tongue trailing over her bleeding lip left her overly warm and aching for him.

But then there was that ever-persistent ache in her heart, the ache that had been there since she'd first realized Harry fancied a girl – a girl that wasn't her. Now, he seemed to be offering her everything she'd ever wanted, but she couldn't dare to hope. Was it really Harry talking, or the vampire?

All the signs pointed to the latter. When Harry was in control of himself, everything was just as it had always been. Only when his instincts took over did the sexual innuendo and talk of possession begin. Wouldn't she be foolish to try to make more of that than it really was? There was no need to torture herself with ridiculous hopes.

No, she would not delude herself. Unfortunately, she still had to face him eventually, and he would most certainly know how she felt about him now. He must, after the way she'd kissed him back.

That was a humiliation she could live without.

When Hermione did fall asleep, it was in the early morning hours. Consequently, it was well past noon when she returned to the waking world. Downstairs, she found Ron and Remus, deep in conversation.

"So it really exists?" she overhead as she approached the kitchen.

"Oh, certainly," Remus answered. She heard the chink of a cup being set on the table. "I've seen it on occasion. It would be a very good thing, actually…vampires with mates are much more in tune with…human feeling."

"Oh, he's been feeling, all right," Ron replied. Hermione could just see him rolling his eyes.

She finally walked into the kitchen, and their conversation stopped. "Good morning," she greeted them awkwardly.

"Well, it _was_ a good morning, but you slept through it," Ron replied. "There's still tea on the stove, though, if you like."

"Thanks." She busied herself with preparing a cup, ignoring the eyes she could feel boring into her back.

"You going to talk to Harry when he wakes up?" Ron asked, getting straight to the point. Hermione winced.

"I was thinking we should tell him what we found yesterday," she said, evading the question. "We should really get to work, now that we've got something to go on."

"That can wait," Ron argued as she dropped a sugar cube into her tea. "Sorting out what's going on here is more important."

Hermione started to protest, but Remus surprised her by interrupting.

"He's right, Hermione," their old professor said. "Communication and teamwork are going to be essential to the work you three have ahead of you. This isn't the time for letting conflicts go unaddressed."

"There is no conflict," Hermione insisted, glaring at the two. "Harry is confused, that's all. He'll realize that soon enough."

"You can't know that for certain. Just have a chat with him, will you? I think he's got a bit to say as well."

Hermione sighed, but reluctantly agreed. "Very well. But I think you'll find that there's really nothing to this at all."


	5. Chapter Five: Fools in Love

Title: Après Moi, Le Deluge

Rating: T to be safe, will go higher with future chapters

Category: Drama/Adventure/Romance

Summary: AU - An unfortunate incident leads to Harry becoming a vampire.

Disclaimer: I guess it all still belongs to JKR, huh? Yuck. Well, I'm using nothing from DH, because I didn't finish reading it, and some – but not all – of the vampire concepts are blatantly stolen from Stephenie Meyer's _Twilight_, because her vampires bring sexy back.

A/N: Right, so, I started this after I read _Twilight_ because I was on such a vampire kick, and I'm finally posting it now. As the disclaimer says, this completely ignores DH, and no, it's not another crossover – all HP, just waaaay cooler, because vampires rock.

* * *

**Chapter Five: Fools in Love**

With great trepidation – really, with more fear than was reasonable – Hermione climbed the stairs to Harry's room. She'd been waiting all afternoon to talk to him, since he slept through the daylight hours, and she hadn't come to any real conclusion as to what she wanted to say, only that she needed to say something.

She loved Harry. She could admit that much to herself, at least. But to say it to anyone else seemed an impossible task, especially to say it to him.

Hermione clutched the thermos of blood tighter ("breakfast", Ron had called it), hesitating at Harry's door. Her hand was just poised to knock when the door flew open and Harry appeared, suddenly much too close for comfort. They both stumbled back, then eyed each other warily.

"I – I brought blood," she stammered, holding up the thermos. Harry nodded slowly, and she wondered if he'd heard her at all.

"Can…can I come in?" she asked. Even to her own ears, she sounded pitiful.

"Yes," he said, stepping back quickly. "Yes, of course."

She crossed the threshold and heard the click of the latch behind her as Harry shut the door. They remained stationary like that, not looking at one another, not speaking. She fidgeted.

"Harry –"

"Hermione –"

They both stopped, having spoken at the same time.

"You first," Harry insisted, almost desperately. Hermione shook her head.

"No, you first." He was, after all, the one who started all this nonsense. He should have to explain himself.

He stared, blinked, bit his lip, and finally sat down on the edge of his bed and held his hand out for the thermos. She handed it over, knowing things could go very wrong once again if he remained thirsty.

"Thanks," he muttered before twisting the cap off and starting to drink. She stood watching, wondering why the sight of him drinking blood didn't make her more uncomfortable. It _should_. It made Ron uncomfortable. Perhaps she was just odd…or perhaps she really loved him, more than any person ought to love another.

Some minutes later, he set the thermos aside. Rather than beginning to speak, he folded his hands in his lap and stared resolutely at them.

"Harry?" she prompted. If he didn't speak soon, she was going to burst.

He heaved a sigh. "Hermione…I want to apologize for the way I've been behaving of late. It's just, when I'm thirsty, and you're around, I lose control."

The tears that pricked at her eyes surprised her. She had known the way it was all along; it shouldn't destroy her so when he voiced it. "It's okay, Harry. I know you're just trying to deal with your new instincts. I – I'll stay away, if that's what you want…"

Harry shook his head forcefully, finally lifting his intent, glowing gaze to hers. "No, Hermione, that's not what I mean. It's just…you smell _so good_ to me that when you're around, I just…lose my head. I'm so afraid I'll hurt you."

"You didn't hurt me last night," she pointed out, even as her heart continued to shatter. Of course, this was all just because she smelled nice to him. Nothing more. It would never be anything more.

"No…I would have. But when you said my name, you sounded so frightened…it broke my heart, Hermione. I had to stop. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I ever did anything to you."

Hermione forced a smile. "Harry, nothing will happen. I have faith in you."

"Why?" he asked. "Why would you have faith in a monster?"

Hermione shook her head and went to his side, ignoring all the dangers. "You're not a monster. You're _Harry_, just like you've always been. There are just…a few physical changes, that's all."

Harry looked woefully down at her. "And what if the changes aren't just physical, Hermione?"

"What do you mean?" She was puzzled, and she didn't like it.

"I mean…something is different, and I'm not sure I can be your best friend Harry anymore."

The tears returned, finally spilling over. "Why? What's wrong? Is it me? I can keep my distance if that's what you need, but please –"

Harry shook his head, cutting her off. "No, Hermione, it's not you. Well, it is you, but it's me as well. You see…I…that book you gave me, Hermione, about vampire mating? Do you remember it?"

"Of course," she said with a furrowed brow. "What about it?"

"Do you remember what it said, about vampires mating for life?" he pressed urgently. "Do you remember how it said they just _know_ when they see that person?"

Hermione nodded slowly. "Yes, I remember."

Harry swallowed heavily. She watched his Adam's apple bob with the effort. "Hermione, that person is _you_. I knew the minute I woke up and saw you that you were mine, that I had to have you, that no one else would do. I didn't understand at first…I thought it might just be bloodlust confusing me. But when I read that book, I realized what was happening. It's getting out of hand now. The instinct just gets stronger and stronger…I can't control it anymore. That's…that's why we can't be friends anymore, Hermione. I can't let this keep happening."

"Oh, but Harry!" Suddenly the tears of pain were tears of joy, and the heart that had crumbled in her chest was whole again. "We can be together now! I love you, Harry. It's okay. You don't have to fight it anymore."

She reached up to touch his face, but he jerked back, looking at her with pained eyes. This wasn't the joyful revelation she'd imagined and hoped for. Her hand dropped lifeless to the bed.

"We can't be together, Hermione," he said softly, refusing to meet her eyes any longer. "Don't you see? Every day, the instinct to make you like me grows. It's all I can do not to sink my teeth into you right now! I can't let that happen, Hermione. You deserve so much better."

"But Harry – "

"No! There's no discussion. I won't do it, Hermione."

Anger swelled in her chest. Who was he to decide her fate? "Harry –"

"You should leave now, Hermione," he said coldly, turning away from her. "It's for the best."

She did jump to her feet, but with fury fueling her. "You're a bloody fool, Harry," she hissed as she stormed out the door, slamming it behind her.

How dare he make a decision like that for her? She was fuming as she crossed the hall to her bedroom and locked herself inside. It wasn't as if she didn't understand the realities of life as a vampire. She lived with one, for goodness' sake. She knew enough to make up her own mind on the subject!

And furthermore, the decision would affect both their futures. What if she didn't feel like giving up on love? What if she didn't want a conventional life with a husband and children and a job? Oh, that would have been fine if she could have had that with Harry, but that was impossible now, and she was willing to face facts, even if he wasn't.

Besides, what would he do without her? He needed her, at least in the short-term – there was no way he would find all the horcruxes without her! And then it wouldn't just be him that was doomed, but the whole world! Was he really willing to risk the wizarding world to Voldemort just to keep her from being a vampire?

Even if he could manage without her, what was he going to do after that? Wander the world for an eternity alone? No, she wouldn't allow it.

And then an idea bloomed in her head. She didn't _have_ to allow it. If he could take the decision out of her hands, she could take it right back out of his.

She would make herself a vampire.

It would be difficult and dangerous, but she _could_ do it. Her parents would be upset, but she would make sure not to see them again until it was safe…they had gotten used to her being a witch; they could cope with her being a vampire.

She would plan it very carefully, of course. It would take a few days to work everything out. Harry could think he had won this battle while she was plotting her course of action, and by the time he realized what she had done, it would be too late for him to argue.

* * *

Ron couldn't prove it, but he knew Hermione was up to something.

Nothing had been right since she'd gone to talk to Harry that night. For his part, Harry had been moping and brooding, which clearly meant he hadn't resolved a thing with Hermione. Not that he was particularly surprised at that part.

No, the weird thing was that Hermione wasn't reacting like _she_ should. She wasn't doing everything she could think of to batter down Harry's defensive walls. As far as he could tell, she wasn't trying at all. She'd been spending every spare minute in the library, which wasn't unusual for her…but if Harry had rejected her, he didn't imagine even _she_ would drown her sorrows in research.

Besides, she didn't seem to be researching anything remotely to do with You-Know-Who or horcruxes or even vampires. Something else was going on. And he was going to find out what.

Some three days after the madness had begun, Ron was just waking up for the evening (he'd started sleeping through the days when he realized how boring they were with Hermione researching and Harry out cold) when he heard a shout of triumph that unmistakably came from Hermione.

She was dashing down the hall when he stumbled out of his bedroom, a grin on her face.

"Hermione? What's going on?"

"Oh, nothing, nothing," she said quickly, face flushed. Again, he wondered what she was up to. "Listen, Ron, I'm going out for a bit. Don't wait up for me."

"Hold on a minute and I'll go with you," he offered, imagining what Harry would do to him if he let Hermione go out alone after dark.

"No, no! It's fine, Ron, I'm just – I'm going to visit my parents. I might stay with them a few days. Let Harry know, will you?"

She scurried off before he could say another word, and he knew she was lying. He hadn't always been the most perceptive person in the world, but even an idiot could tell something was off about the girl. More off than normal.

He heard the front door open and shut, and that was when he decided to go into the library and find out what she'd been working on.

The library was unquestionably Hermione's domain. He avoided it if at all possible – a little too dusty and dreary for his taste. Besides, the titles of the books alone that Hermione would read could give him a headache.

The main table was littered with volumes. He went to one in the center which was still open. The page gave instructions for some kind of tracking charm. He squinted at the fine print, trying to figure out what she would want with it.

_This charm will ignore all human presences and focus solely on the supernatural – vampires, werewolves, etc…_

Ron blinked. Why would Hermione need to track anything like that? They only knew the one vampire, and he was pretty easy to find…

Perplexed, he shuffled through the notes she'd been making. Nothing made sense – a lot of nonsense about setting triggers on charms…

His mind froze as he read the next page, where Hermione had detailed her plan in a very organized fashion, just in the way Hermione would…and he thanked the heavens that she'd been silly enough to leave this behind for anyone to find, because he hand a feeling it would go terribly, catastrophically wrong.

In an instant, he was out of his seat and running to Harry's room. He had a feeling he'd need help clearing up _this_ mess.


	6. Chapter Six: Stupid in Love

**Title:** Après Moi, Le Deluge

**Author:** Amethyst Jackson

**Rating:** M for future chapters

**Category:** Drama/Adventure/Romance

**Summary:** AU - An unfortunate incident leads to Harry becoming a vampire.

**Disclaimer:** I guess it all still belongs to JKR, huh? Yuck. Well, I'm using nothing from DH, because I didn't finish reading it, and some – but not all – of the vampire concepts are blatantly stolen from Stephenie Meyer's _Twilight._

**A/N:** Right, so, I started this after I read _Twilight_ because I was on such a vampire kick. As the disclaimer says, this completely ignores DH, and no, it's not another crossover – all HP, just waaaay cooler, because vampires rock. Sorry for the loooong time between updates. I'm working on it.

* * *

**Chapter Six: Stupid in Love**

"Why couldn't she leave the instructions for a homing charm to find _her_?" Ron complained, trudging alongside Harry through the backstreets of London.

They had tried using Hermione's supernatural-locator charm, but it just kept pointing to Harry. He realized quickly, though, that he could follow Hermione's scent. It was stronger than any other smell for him, as familiar as breathing. Harry itched to move faster, and he felt instinctually that he could, but Ron wouldn't be able to keep up. He seriously considered leaving Ron behind, but a voice suspiciously similar to Hermione's in his head told him he might not be able to help Hermione alone, if she had found the vampires she was looking for.

How could she be so _stupid?_ This wasn't like Hermione at all. _He_ was the one that went off half-cocked and executed really brainless plans that nearly got him killed. Hermione was supposed to be the voice of reason. That their roles had been radically reversed troubled Harry. Had he driven her to this?

"Obviously, she didn't want to be found," Harry growled, picking up his step a touch. Ron scrambled along beside him.

"Well, that's just barking mad. What is she looking for a vampire for, anyway? She's got one at home!" Ron groused through heavy breaths.

Harry sighed. "She wants a vampire to bite her, and she knows I won't do it."

Ron stopped in his tracks, but Harry wasn't about to quit moving, so he had to run to catch up again. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you telling me Hermione wants to be a vampire?"

"Yes," Harry hissed, furious with her and himself. Why couldn't she understand that he couldn't do that to her? That making the world safe for her was his only goal in life anymore? Why did she have to make it so difficult?

"All right, let me guess. She told you she wanted to be a vampire, because she's crazy in love with you, and you told her there was no way because you wouldn't damn her, and because you're a stubborn dolt, she decided to go out and find another vampire that wouldn't hesitate to sink its fangs into her?"

Harry grimaced. "Basically, yes."

"Well, shit, mate. You should have known she wouldn't take that lying down. That girl would do anything for you."

"I know," he said through gritted teeth. His nerves were getting more and more on edge, and he was finding the idea of biting Ron's head off more and more appealing. He wasn't sure if he meant it literally or figuratively…but he was leaning toward literally.

"Can you still smell her?" Ron asked worriedly.

"It's getting stronger," Harry said, sucking in more of the night air. The smell of parchment and cinnamon lingered, taunting him. What if they didn't make it in time? No wild vampire was going to leave her with a drop of blood remaining, and Hermione wouldn't be able to fight one off once she was bitten. Harry remembered all too well the paralyzing pain of the venom before he'd slipped into unconsciousness.

"I hope she's –" Ron began to say, but he was interrupted by a shrill scream.

"Hermione!" Harry took off running at full speed, much faster than Ron could possibly keep up with, but that didn't matter anymore. Harry's whole universe narrowed down to Hermione and the ground he had to cross to get to her.

The scent trail led him down a poorly lit street and a back alley. Harry followed it to a metal door off a brick building, and he burst through it with a slash of his wand, heedless of the danger.

What he saw made the cold blood freeze in his veins. There were two vampires, both male. One of them, short and brown-haired, had Hermione grasped around the middle, her back to his chest, as he drank from her neck. The other, a blond, had been feeding at her wrist, and he turned defensively at Harry's entrance. Hermione's eyes had rolled back in her head at the pain, and the angle of her legs showed that she was no longer supporting her own weight.

Harry let out an instinctive snarl and went for the nearest vampire, knowing intuitively that he was the weaker of the two and the easiest to tackle. Best to get rid of him and move on quickly to the other. He sunk into a crouch and then pounced, taking the blond vampire to the dirty floor. The vampire was quick to react, rolling them into the brick wall, which Harry's back hit with a jolt of pain. The vampire got one punch in before Harry recovered from his shock and pinned him to the ground. His hands went straight to the creature's throat, squeezing tightly. With his knees pinned to the vampire's shoulders to immobilize him, Harry twisted the vampire's head with a sharp jerk, and it came cleanly off. Harry had only a moment to stare in shock at what he'd accomplished before the corpse beneath him and the head in his hands turned to lifeless ash.

Harry heard a thump behind him, and turned to see the other vampire had dropped Hermione, leaving her sprawled out awkwardly on the ground. Her chest still rose and fell with shallow breath, but Harry could also smell the blood pooling from the wound in her neck, and he knew he didn't have much time. The other vampire was in a crouch before her, growling, prepared to defend his meal. What that vampire didn't understand was that his meal was Harry's mate, and one of them would not be walking away alive.

Harry lunged for the vampire, but this one was smarter, dodging and spinning away. Harry landed roughly, jarringly, but turned quickly, now occupying the defending position in front of Hermione. He'd be damned if the other vampire would ever get this close to Hermione again.

"Why don't you find your own dinner?" the vampire snarled, approaching warily, looking for Harry's weaknesses. Harry, too, was scouting the other vampire, watching the way he tended to leave his left side undefended.

"She's mine," Harry hissed. As the fog of pure instinct wore away slightly, Harry remembered the advantage he had over this creature – magic. His wand was in his hand before he could complete that thought, and in the next second, Harry took aim, shouting the spell Hermione had used to save him not so long ago. The vampire caught fire and wheeled back, trying to put out the flames. It was no use. The fire quickly engulfed him, and with a spine-chilling shriek, it was another pile of ashes on the floor.

Without pause, Harry turned to Hermione. The bleeding at her neck had slowed, but so had her pulse. He tore off his shirt, pressing it quickly to her neck with as much force as he could use without hurting her. The sound of footsteps carried from outside, but Harry smelled Ron's scent on the breeze through the doorway, keeping him from panicking.

"Bloody hell," Ron breathed from the doorway, but Harry didn't turn to look at him. His eyes were glued to Hermione's chalk-white face. He could only pray Hermione had enough blood left in her to complete the transformation because the other outcome was unendurable.

"We need to get her out of here," Harry said through a throat that didn't want to cooperate.

"Yeah, of course. What do you need me to do?" Ron asked, hovering uncertainly.

Harry struggled to think clearly. "I can carry her, but I'll need you to be on your guard. If we're attacked, I won't be able to fight and take care of her at the same time."

"I can handle it," Ron promised, gripping his wand tighter. "I've got your back."

"Thank you," Harry breathed, so very glad to have his best friend in this moment. His mind struggled in numbness, unable to process anything but Hermione – Hermione and her blood on his hand. Later, he would think about the rippling repercussions of this night. While Hermione lay changing in silence, he would think about words like vampirism and eternity. For now, that small, clear part of his mind demanded he make her safe, immediately.

Taking Hermione carefully into his arms, with one hand curled around her neck to keep pressure against the wound and the other hooked beneath her knees, Harry stood and let Ron lead the way out of the building, which was, for all Harry could tell in his limited perception, a warehouse.

True to his word, Ron was vigilant, scoping out both ends of the alley before leading the way back to the street. They were slow getting back to Grimmauld Place; Ron took each step cautiously, on the lookout for threats, and Harry feared too move too quickly with the precious burden in his arms. Fortunately, they were unnoticed and unharmed. Hermione had found the worst things out there for one night.

Safely ensconced in their hideaway once more, Harry carried Hermione to his bed. The shackles were still there, and as much as it pained Harry to have to restrain Hermione, he knew it was necessary. Harry remembered all too well the way the thirst had overwhelmed him the first time Hermione had come too close. Although he was fairly certain that Hermione wouldn't react the same way to Ron, he couldn't take the risk. Ron's safety took precedent over Hermione's comfort, and Harry knew she wouldn't be able to live with herself if she hurt their friend.

Ron had called in Lupin while Harry tended to Hermione. He arrived with Tonks, who taught Harry a healing charm for Hermione's neck. Once there was nothing more to be done, Harry congregated with the other three in the parlor.

"Harry," Ron greeted him from an armchair. Lupin stood by the fireplace, and Tonks had curled herself into a corner of the couch. "I was waiting for you to get here to explain what had happened tonight."

"How did this happen, Harry?" Lupin asked. His face was somber, and his voice was…disappointed, a reminder of how much Harry had truly failed Hermione. Lupin clearly felt Hermione did not deserve this fate, and he could only agree. If only he'd been paying more attention, perhaps he could have kept Hermione from acting out her insane plan.

"Hermione wanted to be a vampire," Harry said dully. "I told her I wouldn't do that to her, and she decided to go looking for someone who would."

"She'd been holed up in the library for days," Ron offered. "I knew she was up to something, but I didn't think she would ever…." He shook his head, clearly dumbfounded. "She rushed out earlier tonight saying she was going to visit her parents, maybe for a few days, and that just didn't sound right. I went to the library and found all her notes lying out. Thank goodness she was daft enough to leave them out, or else we might never –"

"Hermione planned this whole thing out to the letter. She wouldn't have just forgotten to hide her notes." Harry shook his head, frustrated that he hadn't seen it sooner. "She left her notes out because she wanted us to follow her. She knew she wouldn't be able to fight off vampires on her own, and she also knew that we wouldn't make it in time to keep her from being bitten. This was her plan all along."

Ron gaped at Harry while Lupin and Tonks exchanged a significant look. "But her notes said something about a timed charm that would kill the vampires…"

"A backup plan," Harry sighed. "In case you didn't go looking for clues before it was too late."

Ron frowned. "Why would she say she was going to visit her parents, then? If she wanted us to go looking…"

Harry closed his eyes. "Because if she'd said she was running an errand or something, you would have asked questions. You would have wanted to go with her."

"Oh," Ron breathed.

Lupin cleared his throat, ending the exchange. "You say she wanted this. There's no undoing it now. We can only hope she doesn't come to regret her decision. Moving forward, however, we're going to have to deal with the reality of having two young vampires in one house. Ron, I think it would be extremely unwise for you to stay here alone with them. I believe Tonks and I would be willing to join you here."

"Of course," Tonks agreed, nodding her currently brunette head.

"Wouldn't it be better to have fewer humans around?" Harry questioned. "Less temptation?"

"There is no ideal situation in this case, but I think you'll find once Hermione is awake that the two of you feed upon one another. Not in a literal sense," Lupin inserted quickly at the look on Ron's face, "although that _is_ a possibility. I mean it in a metaphorical sense, however. Vampires become increasingly more primal in groups. It's dangerous for any humans to be around you both together, but it's even more crucial in this case that you have some supervision. Otherwise, you both might become lost to your vampire nature…and then there would be no bringing you back."

"Make yourselves at home then," Harry said tiredly, unable to process all the information in his mental state. "I'm…exhausted. If you don't mind, I think I'll…?"

"Go, be with her," Lupin said with an understanding nod. Harry tried to smile his thanks, but it probably came across as a grimace.

Harry dragged his body up the stairs to his room and sunk down in the chair by his bed, the one in which Hermione had passed many hours while he went through his transformation. She was so still and pale. Even though he knew, intellectually, that she would be fine, that she would walk and talk and maybe even smile again, it was disconcerting to see her so lifeless.

He leaned over, resting his arms and head on the mattress beside her body, and waited.

* * *

It hurt. Hermione hadn't realized how much it would hurt; Harry had never talked about his transformation. She assumed he'd been unconscious the entire time.

She drifted in and out of awareness, sometimes at peace, but other times awake and unable to move. She couldn't twitch her fingers or call out to anyone or even lift her eyelids. She tried not to be afraid. There was a hand holding hers all the time, and she knew she wasn't alone.

Still, the transformation was…intense. The sensation was suffocating, as if her entire body were tightening and hardening, freezing into solid form. She could feel her heart slowing and her blood cooling. Nothing could have prepared her for this.

She slipped into oblivion for the last time before her heart stopped beating, and when she woke, the slow throb of her pulse in her ears was gone. She mourned the loss momentarily before trying, once again, to move some part of her body. To her joy, when she tried to wiggle her fingers, it worked.

Her fingers danced, and then struck upon skin. It felt vaguely warm, like lukewarm water running from the tap. She struggled to push her eyes open, and when she did, bright green ones were shining at her in an otherwise dark room.

He was still for a moment, staring at her. Of course, she would look a little different. She wondered what her eyes were like now, if they were as catlike as his.

"Harry?" she croaked, wishing he would say something. She needed to be sure he was real, that she had actually made it through the transformation. For all she knew, she could be well and truly dead right now.

"Hermione," he finally said, and his voice was hard. "Do you want to tell me what the hell you were thinking?"

Hermione winced. He was furious, and she knew she was in trouble.

* * *

To Be Continued


End file.
